


Pep Talk

by Lady_in_Red



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: Baseball, Canon Compliant, F/M, Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 17:18:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13640865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_in_Red/pseuds/Lady_in_Red
Summary: A Padres blowout gives Ginny too much time to think. Her captain thinks she needs a little inspiration.





	Pep Talk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lerayon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lerayon/gifts).



Blowouts were boring.

Top of the seventh and the fans were already starting to leave, or at least migrate to the outfield stands, where the Padres had already sent four home runs today. 

Ginny wanted nothing more than to go back to the clubhouse, strip out of her sweaty uniform and stand under a cold shower, but instead she leaned on the dugout railing watching each batter’s stance and swing. Behind her, the guys were joking around, laughing and loose. They had every right to be, their bats today hotter than the sun beating down on the back of her neck. 

The Marlins’ starting pitcher hadn’t lasted more than three innings, and Ginny pitched a shutout through four innings before Al pulled her. After her injury last season, the skip had been conservative with her pitch count. She’d gotten used to it. Lawson still grumbled and scowled when Al pulled him out early, trying to baby Mike’s knees through one more season. 

Lawson had hit a two-run home run to go with a double and a pop out, then come out after five, letting Livan’s fresh bat add to their lead. Lawson was sitting right behind her, giving Salvamini shit for bringing dill pickle-flavored sunflower seeds into the dugout. Their stench had driven Ginny to the railing in the sixth inning. Well, the stench and the conversation. 

Mindless chatter about anything and everything, too loud for Ginny to filter out. At least up at the rail the crowd chatter masked Livan’s rapid-fire Spanish and Omar explaining how all the Marvel movies were connected and Salvi schooling Dusty on how to get rid of diaper rash. Apparently they’d all forgotten there was still a game going on here. 

“Come on, baby, strike him out!” 

Ginny twisted and squinted up into the stands. Even under the brim of her hat it was too bright, too hot, a drop of sweat falling into her eye and burning. Why the hell was it so hot here? It was as if the Marlins had brought Florida’s weather with them. 

She spotted the woman right away, a pretty brunette with long hair and a bright smile, the only one in her section wearing a Marlins jersey. Her eyes were locked on the pitcher. From the rock on her left hand as she cupped them around her mouth to yell at him again, Ginny guessed the woman was his wife. Must be nice.

The sting of her mom snubbing the All-Star game still hadn’t faded a year later. They were closer than they’d been in years, but Janet Baker hadn’t come to a single game this season and only called once a month or so. They mostly talked about Will anyway.

Ginny turned back to the field, licked the sweat from her upper lip. The pitcher had Blip behind in the count, his eyes narrowed in concentration. In his place, Ginny would throw low and outside. If he chased it, great. If not, it’d only be ball three. 

She didn’t watch Blip swing, prefering to watch the pitcher. Ginny heard Blip grunt as he swung, the solid thunk as the ball hit the catcher’s mitt. End of inning, and her teammates stood and grabbed their gear to head back out. 

A hand landed solidly on her shoulder. She knew before his gruff voice muttered, “Baker,” that it was Mike. “Hit the showers. You look beat.”

Even though she’d been having that same thought for a full inning, Ginny bristled. On the field, honestly, she didn’t give a damn what she looked like, but having it pointed out to her sucked. “I’m fine,” she snapped, shrugging away from his hand.

Lawson squeezed her shoulder firmly. “Rookie, that wasn’t a suggestion.” 

“I’m fine,” she repeated, the dugout suddenly too empty. Al and the other coaches were standing by the dugout steps, lost in their own conversation. 

Mike’s hand slipped from her shoulder, but he stepped up to the railing, his shoulder bumping hers. “It’s 90 degrees and at least 90 percent humidity, Baker. I’m melting like a popsicle, and so are you. No reason for you to stay out here.”

She let herself glance over at him. Mike’s face was flushed, his dark hair damp with sweat, his hazel eyes watching her far too intently. “No reason for you, either,” she pointed out.

Mike shrugged. “I’m the captain.” 

She rolled her eyes. “We’re up 8 to 1. I don’t think they need a pep talk.”

“They always need a pep talk,” Mike shot back. “But you don’t. You got the job done. Go shower, call up Evelyn or that guy of yours. Have some fun. You’ve earned it.”

Ginny shook her head. “I have game footage to watch tonight. Besides, Ev’s out of town.”

Mike snorted. “Game footage can wait. What about that guy?”

It was Ginny’s turn to shrug. “Don’t know. We haven’t talked in awhile.”

Mike’s eyes narrowed. “Something happen with you two?” He looked like depending on her answer, he might feel a need to punch someone. 

“Nothing happened. That was the problem.” Too late, she realized how that sounded. Which wasn’t exactly accurate.

Mike started to speak and then stopped. Mike Lawson, speechless. Who knew that was possible?

Ginny laughed in spite of her own discomfort. Mike was the last person she’d talk to about her sex life. Sex with Noah had never been fireworks. Pleasant. Stress-relieving. A step up from her vibrator. That was about it. “No, we were just busy. He was nice. We just never made time for each other.” And after about a month of realizing neither of them had had the urge to pick up the phone, Noah had finally ended it a few weeks ago. The fact that she’d barely noticed was embarrassing.

“Nice?” Mike scoffed. “Couldn’t have been that nice if he took you for granted.”

Ginny looked away, watched the first Marlin come up to bat. She should defend Noah. She hadn’t made much effort either. But the truth was that it had never been right. “I ditched him on our first date to come see you,” she reminded Mike.

His eyes brightened, and he got that cocky smirk again. “Of course you did. Who could resist all this?” He gestured to his face, the full beard and twinkling eyes and round cheeks. He was totally ridiculous, but just the sight of him made her smile. Noah had never inspired that.

Ginny shook her head and shoved him, just a little. “Get over yourself, old man.”

Mike chuckled, watched the next at-bat with a critical eye. “Livan’s not calling what Butch wants,” he noted with a shake of his head. After at least four signals, Butch nodded and threw a slider, striking out the batter swinging. This would be a quick inning. Mike looked over at her. “You‘re pretty irresistible too, Baker.”

Ginny just turned to him and raised an eyebrow. In almost a year, that moment outside Boardner’s had been their version of Fight Club. And the first rule was definitely not talking about it. Especially in the dugout. And especially after the way he blew her off afterward. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“You want to talk about this now? Here?” Mike’s eyes widened under the brim of his cap like he wasn’t the one who’d brought it up. 

Ginny huffed out a breath and straightened. “No, Lawson. I don’t. I want to see how Butch handles their batters, and then I want to go home and watch game film.” She heard her voice rising, caught Al glancing over at them, and hissed the rest under her breath, “I want to do my job without anyone fussing over me. I’ve been doing this a long time. I don’t need anyone swooping in and trying to fix me, least of all you.” 

Mike looked away at the sound of a bat connecting with a pitch. They cheered when Christiello caught the line drive. Without looking at her, Mike said quietly, “Not trying to change you, rookie. You’re a ballplayer, I get that. But you’re more than that.” 

She hadn’t been more than a ballplayer in a decade, maybe longer. Pop had been clear about that. To get here, to make it to the show, she had to be stronger, faster, more focused than everyone else. And it had worked. Pop had just never said what she was supposed to do when she got here. “I don’t know how to be anything else,” Ginny admitted. 

She could feel Mike looking at her but refused to meet his gaze. “Yes, you do. You wouldn’t have fired Amelia otherwise.”

Amelia had treated her like a child, and Ginny had let her for far too long. Encouraged it at times, when she was missing Pop. 

They watched Butch give up a single, and Mike stayed quiet. It wasn’t like him. “What, no speech?”

“You tell Butch to stop shaking off Livan, and I’ll tell Livan to stop pushing the fastball.” Mike glanced at her. “Not what you meant?” 

Ginny bumped her arm against his. “You know it’s not.” 

Lawson laughed, low and quiet. “You don’t need a speech, rookie. You’ve got me: captain, catcher and walking cautionary tale. Don’t be me, Baker, and you’ll be fine.”  

“Cautionary tale? Oh, come on, Lawson.”

“I made the game my whole life. I was a shitty husband, not a great friend, and I don’t even have a ring to show for it. You can sure as hell do better than that.” She’d heard the bitterness in his voice before, but the self-loathing was new. Or maybe he’d just hidden it from her all this time.  

Ginny checked the pitch count, and the coaches. Still far enough away that they couldn’t be heard. “Do you need a speech, old man?”

That made him smile, and Ginny warmed to see his eyes brighten. “Shit, Baker, you already work harder, have bigger endorsements, and you’re prettier than me. You can’t take speeches too. Leave me a little dignity in my old age.”

From him, that brought a flush to her cheeks that had nothing to do with the heat. Their moment had come and gone, bad timing that Ginny refused to waste time regretting, but his opinion still mattered to her. More than it should. “Not going to stroke your ego, Lawson.” The rest went unsaid. Mike knew she was attracted to him, and she was far from the only one. He even made the beard hot. It shouldn't work but on him it did.  


Mike shook his head, smiled though it looked forced. “What were we talking about?” He pretended to think. “Right, that tech dope and how he didn’t deserve you.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Forget I brought it up.”

“Aw, come on, Baker. You deserve someone who makes time for you, but you have to make time for them too. Don’t be me. I had a good thing with Rachel and I pissed it away worrying more about heat maps than her.” 

Ginny must have made a face, because Mike rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to hate her on my behalf,” he pointed out.

“I don’t,” she grumbled, only half lying. Rachel had always rubbed Ginny wrong, from her first week in the majors, but knowing everything Rachel had put Mike through, before and after Ginny met him, she couldn’t stand the woman. 

“Right,” Mike scoffed. Suddenly he clapped her on the back, hard enough to sting. “Good talk, rookie. You’re coming out with us after the game. Karaoke, tequila, mocking Javanes and Duarte’s manscaping, not necessarily in that order. No excuses.” He turned away abruptly and walked over to the coaches.

The team was leaving the field, the inning over, not that Ginny had noticed. Faced with Salvi’s disgusting sunflower seeds again, she decided it was time to hit the showers. When she’d offered all the high fives and ass pats her guys wanted, she pushed past them toward the clubhouse door. A shower and an early night sounded perfect right now.

Mike grabbed her arm as she passed and squeezed it hard enough to get her attention. Their eyes met. “No excuses,” he said firmly.

She rolled her eyes, as if she hadn’t just been thinking about bailing on them. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.” 

Mike released her arm and turned back to the coaches, oblivious to Al’s irritation. 

Ginny made her way into the air conditioned clubhouse, humming under her breath, and plotted exactly how best to embarrass her captain tonight. 

 


End file.
